


we only have forever

by bastardbones



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Borderline Personality Disorder, Codependency, Drinking, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, M/M, Married Life, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Content, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:27:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26688916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastardbones/pseuds/bastardbones
Summary: Home is not found in places, it is found in people — if that is true, then home is with his husband, and if that is true, then home is a house on fire.
Relationships: Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Oowada Mondo
Comments: 16
Kudos: 129





	we only have forever

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just spitting out smaller fics while I work on my big project. 
> 
> I feel like Mondo would be a challenging person to be with. I don't see that examined much and I barely scratched the surface here. Also, how is gay marriage not legal in Japan yet??? I googled that shit and went what the fuck.

Home is not found in places, it is found in people — if that is true, then home is with his husband, _and if that is true_ , then home is a house on fire. 

“You can run now,” Mondo says when he finally receives the diagnosis, although he is gripping Kiyotaka by the wrist when he says it, too. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was one thing — actually, it was many things; the night terrors, the flashbacks. Daiya Oowada had left the world, but never the tortured mind of his dear, little brother. Borderline Personality Disorder is another thing — a wrapped up thing within a bunch of things, a list of overlapping symptoms that almost escaped detection. Mondo resents the discovery, although it comes as no real surprise.

Mondo tells him to run, but Kiyotaka has learned to dismiss the word, having heard it dozens of times. From Mondo, trying to sabotage their relationship, from his father, concerned by the late night phone calls, the ones where Taka is pleading for advice. His father had a failed marriage and the divorce turned him into a workaholic. His parents were together for a long time. Taka has been with Mondo for a long time, too. They were high school sweethearts and now they are as together as they can be. 

They paid a fee, signed a form — ink to paper making them a recognized same-sex couple. Recognized only by the prefecture, not by Japan. Marrying the man of his dreams was just that: a dream. So, technically, yes, they were together, but there was no ceremony, and Kiyotaka had mentioned it so casually to his father. He had gotten quiet before congratulating his son, but for what? If Mondo were ever ill, Kiyotaka could actually make the hospital visit, that was a right he now had. Perhaps that was cause enough for celebration. He is 26 years old and his country still has a lot of catching up to do. 

He has been a representative of The National Diet for less than a year. His colleagues are older, more seasoned than him and sometimes he questions his place there at all. He questions if he would have ever pursued a political career, if not for the mistakes of his grandfather. The work is thankless. The suit feels like a second skin. 

He shrugs it off and loosens his tie, before chucking it rather carelessly into the laundry bin. He pulls on a pair of sweatpants and does not bother with a shirt. 

"Sexy," Mondo purrs from the mattress, eyes glazed with sleep. His arm is hanging off the edge of the bed and he half heartedly reaches out. "C'mere."

The sex is lazy. Kiyotaka moves slow and peppers his husband with kisses. Mondo trembles, back arching as Kiyotaka presses in hard and deep. He pauses every so often, distracted by a thought, by the low lighting in the bedroom, making sleep much more seductive. Mondo encourages him with a roll of his hips.

"Sorry," Taka breathes, only half conscious. He leans in for a kiss.

"Don't be, babe," Mondo sighs into it. A surprised moan escapes him as Taka becomes more enthused, repeating the motion, creating a rhythm. 

Sometimes things are good like that. 

Sometimes he wakes up and Mondo is not beside him. Instead, he will be in the shape of a cocoon, secluded on the couch. He sleeps and Kiyotaka thinks he might sleep there forever, curled up in that heavy heap of blankets. 

"Have you been arguing?" His father asks, holding takeout from the soba shop down the road. He notices the pillow, deflated from use. 

"No," Kiyotaka says, but they will be soon.

"I won't pretend to understand it all.” His father sets down the food. It’s a last minute thing, but Kiyotaka is grateful for it. His father sighs, then pats him on the back. "You're my only child, Kiyotaka. I just want you to be happy." 

His father likes Mondo. He likes him more than Taka could have ever hoped. He watches them smoke together on the balcony, Mondo in his torn jeans and his father in his work pants. They pass a cigarette back and forth and the smoke disappears into the cityscape of Shibuya. His father claps Mondo on the shoulder, he calls him _son_ , then reminds him to take care of his boy.

Though, it is quite the opposite. Kiyotaka has become the caretaker in their relationship. He pulls in most of the money, responsible for the finances and the numbers and Mondo couldn't manage it on his own. He has always been financially insecure, in and out of jobs. Kiyotaka isn't bitter about it, he knowingly signed up for this. He watches as his husband pops a pill into his mouth, then another. He chases it down with a glass of water then stares blankly out the window and Kiyotaka knows it's going to be a bad day.

Mondo disappears on his motorcycle. This is not an uncommon occurrence, he does it impulsively, twirls his keys, then vanishes for hours. He is a reckless driver, too. After the accident with his brother, Mondo was too anxious to ride at all, frightened by the roar of an engine, but eventually the fear dissolved into apathy, or maybe even a death wish. Taka finds an unpaid speeding ticket, tucked beneath a pile of old mail. He tears a page from his checkbook, scribbles his signature and pays the fine. He doesn't mention it to Mondo when he finally returns home, holding a brown paper bag, the alcohol clicking with each step. 

Wordlessly, his husband drops onto the couch with a beer and Taka simply curls up beside him. He sighs as Mondo rakes his nails through his hair, the slow drag of fingers is heavenly. Mondo changes tempo, suddenly grabbing below his waist, and sometimes, Taka simply has no energy for it. Mondo starts kissing his neck and the exhaustion rolls over his bones.

"You never wanna fuck," Mondo pulls away with a dry laugh. "You fuckin' around with someone else?" 

"Is that a serious question?"

"I dunno," Mondo tsks. He cracks open his drink. "If yer cheatin' on me, I'm gonna fuckin' kill myself."

His tone is casual, but the threat is real. He gulps down the can and Taka knows this is for attention, for a reaction. 

Taka sighs. "Mondo."

" _Mondo_ ," he mimics. "Can I be yer fuckin' _baby_ for once? It's like yer not even fuckin' attracted to me. You never fuckin' initiate shit, I'm always the one grabbin' yer dick. You think I like feelin' that fuckin' desperate?"

He stands, creating distance between them. Taka frowns, the room feels a lot colder and absently, he grabs for the blanket on the couch. 

"I didn't know," he admits. He feels guilty. 

"Forget it," Mondo says with a quick twitch of his mouth. When Taka tries comforting him, he backs away. "Don't touch me."

They sleep separately again. The mattress is too big for one body, so Taka tosses and turns like he does every night Mondo decides to sleep alone. He smooths his hands over the sheets, over the sliver of moonlight peeking through the curtains, and reminds himself he chose this. This is the man he chose. 

When they were teenagers, Taka had done so much to win his affection, in the only ways he knew how. He offered his notes, he offered to tutor, he even let Mondo copy his homework. Although these methods lacked romanticism, his efforts finally pulled through. Back then, Mondo didn't date anyone. He floated between girls and boys and broke a few hearts during these indulgent pursuits. Mondo had been with dozens of people, he idolized a person, adored every part of them, only to dismiss them soon after. When they finally got together, when Kiyotaka became his boyfriend, he worried about the longevity of the relationship. Would it really last when Mondo was so finicky, so unstable? The years have been challenging. Some days, Taka wakes up and he is at home with the love of life. Others, he feels like he is trapped with an unhappy roommate. 

In the morning, his ears twitch to the sound of running water. It runs and runs and runs, until Taka gets the sense it shouldn't be anymore, not for so long. He rises from bed and finds Mondo in the bathroom, staring at his own reflection, face blank, eyes vacant. It is somewhat unsettling. Taka taps a knuckle against the door, knocking before he steps inside.

"Have you been taking your medication?"

Mondo blinks. He spits into the sink.

"I'm fine," he sniffs.

Not really the answer to that question. Kind of a yes or no situation. Taka crosses his arms and Mondo twists the handle on the sink. 

"Your dosage may need to be adjusted again."

Mondo snorts. "How should I fuckin' know?"

"I want you to call your psychiatrist today. Can you do that?"

"Don't tell me what to do," he says with a bitter laugh. 

"I'm not."

"You are," he growls.

"I just don't want you to suffer when there's a solution."

Mondo snaps his head away from the mirror, his face suddenly full of expression.

"The meds don't do shit, alright? I'm fuckin' miserable. I only take 'em fer you." His tone is accusatory.

"If you don't feel like they're working, then-"

"Shut up! Jesus, I don't fuckin' care, alright? Just leave me the fuck alone."

He storms out of the bathroom and Taka lets him. He returns to bed as Mondo rummages through the kitchen, either for his keys or his lighter or both. There is no point in escalating the argument. Taka cannot rationalize with a man that cannot recognize rationality. Maybe later. Maybe never. He toys with the band on his finger, gently rotating it, spinning it in an endless circle, then falls asleep. 

The mattress sinks and he wakes to Mondo leaning over him, pulling him into a hug. It is suffocating. Mondo is a large man, often underestimating his own strength and Taka voices his discomfort. His husband eases up, but refuses to let go.

"Please don't leave," Mondo begs, voice thick. "I love you, I love you so much, please don't leave me."

"I'm not leaving," Taka groans, still foggy from sleep.

"Fuck you!” his voice cracks and the tears follow. “Yes you are. Yer gonna fuckin' leave."

When Mondo cries, he cries hard. Each sob is like a punch in the gut for Taka. He holds the back of his husband's head and rocks him gently. 

"Shh,” Taka coos. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The next week is better. Mondo snags a small carpentry job and Kiyotaka is glad to see him out of the apartment, occupying himself with some physical labor. He comes home in a good mood, sweating and pulling Taka into the shower with him. He kisses Mondo on the shoulder blade, massaging body wash into his skin and laughing as his husband mirrors him. When they were younger, they showered together often. It was less about hormonal urges and more about the gesture, washing each other, getting clean. 

They roll into bed together, attached at the mouth and it feels good to feel wanted. To know Mondo feels wanted. The feeling is temporary, but most are. Nevertheless, he climbs into his husband's lap. His body is lax, muscles still loose from the shower, so when Mondo sinks in, he hardly notices the sting. Strong hands guide him, lifting him, dropping him, slow and easy. He voices his gratitude, endless stream of moans and the occasional curse beneath his breath. The stretch is incredible, he gets red in the face just thinking about it, being split open. Warmth builds in the pit of his stomach. His mind goes numb and he forgets every bad thing as he collapses into his husband's arms.

Kiyotaka is invited to a dinner party by a colleague. Of course it isn’t mandatory, but Kiyotaka has learned these events aren’t quite optional, either. Usually, he cannot convince Mondo to come, making him the odd one out, surrounded by old politicians and their trophy wives. He mentions the dinner to Mondo and expects to be turned down, but his husband surprises him. He cleans up well, too. 

“You look good!” Taka smiles.

“I haven’t worn a suit since my brother died,” Mondo says, no emotion, only fact.

The house is beautiful, on a private street just outside the city, nothing like their modest one bedroom apartment. Kiyotaka cannot imagine living in such a place, having come from a low income family, and Mondo, his circumstances were much worse. They are greeted at the door.

“This is my,” he wants to say husband, “partner.”

The men talk among themselves while the women stay in their circles, drifting to occasionally dote on their husbands. It puts Mondo in a strange position. Kiyotaka is pulled into a conversation about his grandfather, some nosy colleague wanting all the details of his life. He entertains it for a few minutes, before politely excusing himself. When Taka returns, he discovers that Mondo has become popular with the ladies. A woman holding a glass of champagne flashes Mondo a smile, then smooths her hand down his arm as she passes. 

“The women seem to like you.”

“Nah. They just got boring husbands,” Mondo shrugs. “Kinda wanted to snag a sugar daddy, but these guys are depressing. So I guess I’m stuck with ya.”

He winks. Taka punches him lightly on the shoulder. Mondo seems like himself right now and Kiyotaka wishes they were home so he could really bask in it. The mood swings are imminent, before the end of the night Mondo is bound to become upset about something, small or consequential. It hurts, having come to expect that. Mondo goes outside to smoke and after some schmoozing, Taka follows.

Mondo is a silhouette before the setting sun. Taka could recognize the shape of him from a mile away and watches in awe, as he pulls away the cigarette, as the smoke leaks from his mouth. He approaches with quiet steps, there is a calm in the air and he doesn’t wish to disturb it. The clouds drift peacefully.

"I dunno how you deal with me," Mondo says. Taka shakes his head. 

"I love you," he says. The simplest thing. 

Mondo offers an absent smile. He takes a drag from his cigarette, blowing upwards and the smoke disappears like a small memory.

"How long were your parents married?" 

Taka furrows his brows at the sudden question. "Sixteen years.”

Mondo exhales anxiously. "Doesn't that scare the fuck outta you?"

"What?" 

"Being with someone fer that fuckin' long, dedicating that much of yer life, just fer 'em to up and split."

Mondo smothers the unfinished cigarette on the palm of his hand. His skin is thick, he doesn’t flinch in the slightest. Taka takes it, pocketing it before he can litter on the property.

"It happens,” Taka frowns. 

"I don't want it to happen to us," Mondo frowns, too. "I think about it all the time, y’know? I fuckin' have nightmares about that shit and it's sick, alright? It's sick how much I need you. I don't know who the fuck I am or what the hell I'm doin'. I feel so empty, it's like I don't care about anything, but at the same time, I'm terrified of bein' alone. I'm terrified of you leavin' me someday."

Taka sighs, squeezing his husband’s hand in reassurance. He can have this man, but he cannot save him. He cannot pull him from the fire. He wonders, when one day, when he is not a young man anymore, if he will be able to withstand it. If age will make him bitter and tired and unsatisfied. If his patience will wither like his skin will wither and one day, if he will be alone and buying soba for his own son, anything for company, to distract from the heartbreak. 

Nothing is guaranteed, nothing more than this moment. Not their relationship, not their lives. Nothing is more terrifying and nothing is more beautiful. He can have this man. For now, he can have him.

Taka sighs.

“I know.”


End file.
